


Not Anymore

by frozenCinders



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, Pining, kris writes a slow burn for once, one sided minor gil/saber
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 10:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: "You don't have any friends after all, do you?" Diarmuid couldn't help an amused huff, but his smile was still polite. "I'll be your friend."His eyes widened for just a second before he was glaring at Diarmuid."That's quite a thing to assume, mongrel."





	Not Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> literally just yesterday i was thinking about how i didn't get this ship at all. then today something suddenly clicked and i understood everything

Diarmuid had never been the first to fall in love before. Not to say he's never loved at all; he'd dated multiple women, but they were always the first to approach and confess to him. He would usually politely decline at first, but they would always wear him down. They would seem charming or cute or dependable and he'd think, maybe I do like her, maybe she's the one. Then, inevitably, their consistent clingy possessiveness would wear him down as well, and he'd break the relationship off with no small amount of difficulty.

Despite continuing to put effort into his appearance, he'd always considered it a curse. Back when he was still in school, he'd find love letters stuck in his bag almost every day, and it took him a while to stop feeling bad about throwing them away. His friends told him often that they'd kill for looks like his, for the amount of attention he got.

Now, Diarmuid's charms were apparently doing absolutely nothing for him. He still had to shrug off people he wasn't interested in, but his curse wasn't working at all on one person in particular.

"That guy? No, don't bother. He's sitting alone over there for a reason," Cu had told him.

"I've seen him here before and it doesn't seem like he has any friends..."

"So? There's a good reason for it: guy's an asshole. You can't just go make friends with everyone who sits alone at a coffee shop, Diar. It's gonna backfire on you one of these days."

Diarmuid ignored him and walked over to the mostly empty booth.

"Excuse me, would you mind company?" he asked, giving a polite bow. "I've seen you here alone a few times and was wondering if you'd like to change that."

The blond stared at him, but not in wonder or lust like most anyone else seeing him for the first time. Diarmuid had counted his blessings at the time.

"My friends and I go out for drinks every Friday night, if you'd like to come," he offered.

"... Sit," the blond said, without giving him an answer.

Diarmuid obeyed and sat across from him. He offered his name and waited expectantly for the blond to reciprocate.

"Prove to me that you're worthy of hearing my name," he heard instead.

"Excuse... me?"

Diarmuid couldn't help but laugh and wonder if that was what Cu was talking about.

"How exactly can I prove my worth to you? Shall I buy you a drink?"

"No need," the blond denied, picking up the cup in front of him.

"Food, then?"

"I have more money than you'll ever see in your life," he casually bragged, then took a sip of his coffee. "Hence, no need."

"I see. Then what are you doing at a little coffee shop like this? Surely there are more extravagant things to spend all that money on."

The blond stared down at his cup almost solemnly. Diarmuid never did get that answer.

"I have no need for friends," he said, dodging the question.

"Then why let me sit with you?" Diarmuid asked. He glanced over at Cu, who was watching the two of them from his usual spot of just leaning on the counter, definitely overhearing the conversation based on both proximity as well as the sour look on his face.

"Company isn't bad. Every so often," he slowly admitted after a considerable pause.

"You don't have any friends after all, do you?" Diarmuid couldn't help an amused huff, but his smile was still polite. "I'll be your friend."

His eyes widened for just a second before he was glaring at Diarmuid.

"That's quite a thing to assume, mongrel."

Mongrel? Diarmuid had never been called that before.

"I will not meet these friends of yours," he said before sliding out of the booth and standing. Diarmuid stood as well.

"Then just the two of us for now?"

Again, the blond was caught by surprise. He'd had his side turned to Diarmuid but eventually turned to face him.

"My name is Gilgamesh," he finally said. "You're lucky you happen to remind me of someone."

Diarmuid smiled and Cu offered a low "wow" as Gilgamesh pulled out his phone and really demanded Diarmuid's number rather than asking for it. He complied anyway, and Gilgamesh walked away once he'd saved it, ignoring Diarmuid asking for his own number.

 

* * *

 

It had been Thursday when Diarmuid first met Gilgamesh, and he expected to be called that weekend. He heard nothing from him for a week despite answering every unknown call he received, though that wasn't odd for him anyway. He'd even made a couple of friends (and a girlfriend) that way.

On the following Saturday, Diarmuid casually answered a phone call while he was reading, not at all expecting it to be Gilgamesh telling him to get ready to go out.

"R-right now? That's awfully short notice..."

"Be honored that I'm taking you up on your offer. Send me your address and I'll pick you up."

"My--"

Before Diarmuid could even begin to protest, Gilgamesh had already hung up on him. He quickly set a bookmark in his book and saved the number that had just called him. He texted Gilgamesh to just meet him at the coffee shop they first met at in an hour. Gilgamesh texted him back saying no, we're not going in an hour, we're going now or never.

Diarmuid just held his phone in silence for a while before it buzzed with a "well?" from Gilgamesh and he began typing in his address despite it almost definitely not being a good idea. If he played his cards right, Gilgamesh knowing his address could be a very good thing rather than a very bad thing. He somehow hadn't gotten murdered by an ex yet anyway, so he wasn't too worried.

Rather than knocking on the door, Gilgamesh texted Diarmuid when he arrived, apparently too lazy to get out of his car. When Diarmuid grabbed his jacket and opened the door, he saw that Gilgamesh didn't have a car at all, but a motorcycle with a surprising amount of room on the seat. It was a gaudy gold, matching his earrings (and his hair, of course). He wasn't wearing a helmet, Diarmuid noticed, and he felt a small spike of anxiety knowing he'd have to go without one as well.

"What is it? Are you in awe?" Gilgamesh asked. Diarmuid slowly approached him.

"How safe is it, exactly..?"

"I ride it all the time and I haven't gotten hurt once," Gilgamesh assured, though it just sounded like more casual boasting.

Diarmuid wasn't sure he was convinced he'd be alright, as bad as his luck was, but then figured a helmet wouldn't be enough to save him from his own luck anyway. So he climbed on behind Gilgamesh.

"Grab onto me," he said. Diarmuid hesitated but wrapped his arms around Gilgamesh. "And don't get the wrong idea, mongrel. Touching me like this is a great honor, but one you will only experience in this context."

Diarmuid laughed and nodded.

"Of course," he said. "What an honor, Gilgamesh, my king."

It was a joke that he expected to get scolded for, but Gilgamesh seemed legitimately happy when he smiled over his shoulder at him. In hindsight, it was very cute.

Their night out had gone well, and Diarmuid was surprised to see just as many women approaching Gilgamesh as Diarmuid. He was unexpectedly nice in turning them down, though Diarmuid might have only thought that because he expected entitled outbursts about how they weren't worthy to even desire him. Gilgamesh seemed amused by how polite Diarmuid was in the way he handled it, and even commented that he seemed to have plenty of experience.

"It seems we have something in common after all," Gilgamesh said before waving the bartender over for another drink.

Despite all that Gilgamesh had drank, he didn't actually seem drunk as they walked out into the parking lot. He seemed more cheerful, but not as clumsy as one should be after the amount of alcohol he'd ingested. Gilgamesh tried to argue with Diarmuid when he said he wasn't going to let him drive anywhere regardless, but then suddenly conceded, yelling that he was sleepy anyway.

Diarmuid was worried about Gilgamesh's motorcycle but called Arturia to pick them up anyway. She was his only female friend (not counting Irisviel, whose company he enjoyed but they barely knew each other) who wasn't attracted to him, and she also happened to be one of the most reliable, trustworthy people he knew. Cu was up there as well, but Diarmuid had prior knowledge that Cu didn't like Gilgamesh, so he ruled him out except as a last resort.

He didn't expect Gilgamesh to suddenly show his drunkenness when she stepped out of her car.

"Gilgamesh?!"

"Arturia!" he called, even peppier than Diarmuid had heard him thus far. "You've finally changed your mind?"

"No, you fool! Diarmuid, what are you doing with him?"

"I... I am so sorry, I didn't realize you didn't get along with him as well. I must have someone else I can call-"

"No, it's fine. You're my friend, of course I will drive you home. Even if it means..."

Gilgamesh was playing with the little lock of hair on Arturia's head that tended to stick up. She visibly clenched her jaw and grabbed his arm. She clearly wasn't being gentle, but Gilgamesh wasn't complaining.

Arturia maneuvered him into the backseat and closed the door surprisingly calmly- Diarmuid had expected a slam. Then she heaved a sigh and politely gestured for Diarmuid to get into the front seat.

"May I ask..?"

"He's been trying to convince me to marry him for about four years now, and failing miserably. Irisviel tells me he would get bored if I started acting more compliant, but..."

"Ah... I apologize for him. I'll try to talk over him in the car."

"You're a true friend, Diarmuid," Arturia said with a smile.

Surprisingly, Gilgamesh didn't even try too hard to interject while Arturia and Diarmuid almost desperately made constant conversation. He was lying across the backseat and fawning over how Arturia had "womanhandled" him into her car so "enthusiastically" and was clearly counting it as a victory. Arturia was trying her best to ignore him, and Diarmuid helped as much as he could.

Though he was hesitant to speak directly to Gilgamesh out of fear of snapping him out of his trance and siccing him on Arturia, Diarmuid asked Gilgamesh where he lived.

"Why should I tell you?" he responded, eyes half lidded and radiating superiority like he didn't just have a goofy smile on his face a few seconds prior.

"Do you happen to know where he lives, then?" He turned back around in his seat to ask Arturia.

"I'm sure he's told me before, but..."

"If you promise to stay the night, I'll tell just you, Arturia!"

"You don't have to, I'll just keep him at my place," Diarmuid assured.

"... Do you have a guest room?" Arturia asked rather cautiously.

"Well... I have a spare room, but it would need to be prepared. It's a bit of a mess..."

"He won't sleep on the couch," she sighed. "I'll stay to help you clean it up."

"Oh! No, you've already done more than enough! Please, you can go straight home after dropping us off."

Arturia paused, clearly conflicted.

"Thank you," she decided on.

"You two... say the same things," Gilgamesh commented. Diarmuid turned around again and Gilgamesh was staring right at him.

"Well... we do have a lot in common, I suppose."

"You're like the male version of Arturia," he mused, and if it had been a joke, he surprisingly didn't make himself laugh with it.

"No, Diarmuid gets enough marriage proposals as it is," Arturia said, and Gilgamesh's head turned towards her but his eyes stayed trained on Diarmuid. "I'll gladly shoulder the brunt of your affections if it means he won't have to suffer through that."

"I would say the same. Four years is a long time to put up with unrequited love. I should know."

"Oh, that reminds me. If you don't mind me asking, how did things go with that married woman?"

"Ah, don't worry, I think she finally gave up."

Diarmuid broke eye contact with Gilgamesh to continue talking with Arturia. Soon enough, they arrived in Diarmuid's neighborhood, and he asked to be let out a short walk from his home so Arturia wouldn't have to put up with Gilgamesh being in her car for another minute or so.

Diarmuid expected to be met with resistance, but Gilgamesh hopped out of Arturia's car with a confident goodbye to her, as if the night had gone in his favor after all. Arturia pointedly ignored him and instead said goodbye to Diarmuid, who promised to make the night up to her later.

When they got inside, Gilgamesh opened every door until he found the bathroom. He came out a few minutes later with his hair down and his earrings out and shrugged his jacket off to rest over the back of the couch. Diarmuid's heart stopped in his throat and he had to will himself back to lucidity, shaking his head and assuming the alcohol was having an effect on him.

"She was right, you know," Gilgamesh said, calm again. "I won't sleep on the couch."

Diarmuid was decidedly much too tired to clean out all the things from the spare bedroom, so he instead ushered Gilgamesh into his room and decided to sleep on the couch himself. His pulse might have sped up at the knowledge of Gilgamesh sleeping in his bed, but that could have also been the alcohol's fault, he was sure.

Diarmuid certainly wasn't one for one night stands, as he much preferred meaningful relationships, so he'd never gotten involved with someone until he'd been their friend for at least a month, even if they met via confession. As he closed his eyes to sleep, Diarmuid idly marked the day they met on a mental calendar.

* * *

 

It took three more months of knowing each other before Gilgamesh came over again. Diarmuid hadn't given him an invitation, and in fact, Gilgamesh hadn't even asked before just showing up at Diarmuid's doorstep. Diarmuid bowed and stepped aside, allowing Gilgamesh into his home while knowing full well he would have come in anyway.

This time, having him over felt different. His heart had leapt out of his chest last time, he recalled, but that was only before bed. Once he'd slept himself into sobriety, Diarmuid felt fine looking at Gilgamesh the next morning. This time, simply having Gilgamesh in his house, not even his room, was giving him some kind of adrenaline rush.

"Oh, the guest room is cleaned out if you decide to stay over," Diarmuid mentioned. Gilgamesh paused taking his shoes off to look at him.

"I liked your bed," he said, and Diarmuid suppressed a quiet gasp. "Yours is likely of higher quality than the one in your guest room."

A matter of comfort, then? Or was Gilgamesh flirting with him?

"Yes, well, the one in my guest room doesn't have my scent all over it, either. I'm sure you'd sleep easier in there." Diarmuid tried to think he was just playing it off, but he couldn't have been more clearly testing the waters. Maybe he was just being self conscious.

"I slept fine. Apparently I don't mind your scent."

Gilgamesh said it like a joke, so Diarmuid offered a polite chuckle and dropped the subject.

For the next few hours, the two of them double teamed a puzzle game Diarmuid had been having trouble with but refused to look up guides on since "that's cheating." When Gilgamesh said he was hungry, Diarmuid set his grill up outside.

"You're cooking outdoors? Why, when you can have a roof over your head?" Gilgamesh asked from the doorway.

"I enjoy outdoor cooking. Besides, food tastes better from a grill rather than a stove or an oven," he answered with enthusiasm.

They talked for a while and Gilgamesh watched him cook with fascination. It made sense, Diarmuid thought, that a rich brat would never have seen someone cook outside. The thought that it could be his first time tasting food like that motivated Diarmuid even more, and he became a little excited about it.

Gilgamesh seemed impressed with Diarmuid's cooking.

"It's good," he said, and Diarmuid was about to thank him. "You'd make a good housewife."

"Th- a- a good..?"

Diarmuid was taken aback, now convinced Gilgamesh was flirting with him after all. He got over his shock and replaced it with a smile.

"Well, I'll cook for you any time, so come over whenever you like."

"Then you're to be _my_  housewife," Gilgamesh joked. Diarmuid laughed with him.

Gilgamesh didn't actually end up staying over that night. Diarmuid had a dream where Gilgamesh fell asleep while they were playing together and rested his head on Diarmuid's shoulder. Diarmuid woke up distressed.

* * *

 

Half a year they'd known each other, and Gilgamesh certainly seemed the type to have made a move by then if he so pleased.

"Hey, Diar," Cu addressed, patting Diarmuid's shoulder in greeting. "Reject any cuties lately that you could send my way?"

"Didn't the last one I sent you end up threatening suicide because you still had friends besides her?"

"... I mean, just because I've got terrible luck with women doesn't mean I should stop trying, yeah?"

They laughed together.

"But seriously," Cu said, "the same goes for you. You haven't dated in forever. What's going on, man? Don't try to tell me you don't have options."

Diarmuid had been dreading this moment for a long time.

"Actually... I've got my sights set on someone."

"Oh-"

"And before you say "who's the lucky gal," it's a man," Diarmuid clarified to get it out of the way.

"Oh my god. No, don't fucking tell me. It's not _him_ , is it? Diar, it better not be him."

"It probably is who you're thinking of."

"Of all- dude, why?! He's the biggest asshole on the planet! Pick _anyone_  else- pick me, even!"

"That's... do you... want me to be in love with you?"

"Well, no, but anything's better than that guy. You know I'd treat you right," he said with a wink. Diarmuid chuckled.

"Your personalities clash, but I get along with him well enough. It's not like he bullies me, so there shouldn't be a problem with us."

"Ugh. You know, I've always wanted to be the best man at your wedding."

"You'd have to fight Arturia for that," Diarmuid laughed. "Though, I suppose in this case, the loser would have to be my best man."

"... Nah, I'd still be glad to do it. I'd just wear earplugs or somethin'."

Diarmuid suddenly realized well into the conversation that they were discussing him getting married to Gilgamesh. The mental image of Gilgamesh picking him up bridal style and laughing that he'd be his housewife after all made Diarmuid swallow.

* * *

 

Diarmuid had made a copy of his house key for Gilgamesh long ago, so it shouldn't be surprising when he suddenly appeared without warning as he so liked to do. Somehow, though, he almost gave Diarmuid a heart attack when he went to exit his room and almost bumped right into Gilgamesh.

"What was that text for?" Gilgamesh asked. Diarmuid went a little pale.

"Oh, I was just wondering. I have quite a few options to send your way if you ever-"

"Why lie to me?"

Diarmuid went silent.

"You're right. I'm sorry," he sighed. The intentions behind an "are you single?" text should be blatantly obvious anyway.

"I'm not," Gilgamesh said.

"Not sorry..? Why would-... ah, not single. I understand, I wouldn't-"

The breath left Diarmuid's lungs as Gilgamesh kissed him. Diarmuid was too shocked and confused to kiss back. He couldn't even find his voice to ask what had just happened when Gilgamesh pulled away.

"Not anymore, that is."


End file.
